Soap Suds
by giftofamber
Summary: After a long day of searching for Henry, it's Emma's turn to do the dishes. Who would have thought something so simple could go so wrong? One shot.


"You tell your son he needs to stop sneaking off," Regina said bitterly while she took her heels off of her sore feet. The two women had been hunting Henry all evening when he hadn't arrived at the mansion after school, and Regina was ready to give up for the night. She was only mildly concerned; after all, he'd managed to survive a trip to Boston relatively unscathed, and her wife had a special knack for finding people.

"Why is he only my son when he's done something wrong?" Emma sighed. She didn't want to fight with her wife. It was just that she was tired, and the blasted woman managed to push every one of her buttons without even trying.

"Well, he certainly didn't learn this whole running away thing from me," Regina's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to remind Emma of how many addresses the blonde had held when she thought better of it. Instead, she said, "I'm tired, and I'm going to bed. Don't forget to start the dishwasher before you come upstairs."

"Regina, I'm just as tired as you are," Emma pleaded. She knew it was her turn, but she absolutely hated doing dishes.

Regina forced a smile, "Then hurry it up, dear, or we'll both be too tired to play with the lovely new toy that just arrived in the mail."

"Oh, really?" Emma perked up a little.

"Really. You and I both need some stress relief, but only if I hear the dishwasher running; I need a little time to get ready," Regina let her eyes rake over her wife's body slowly. Truth be told, she was flat out exhausted, but she knew Emma needed a little positive reinforcement, and how often did they have the house to themselves?

"I think I'm starting to get my second wind," Emma chuckled before leaning in to kiss her wife. Running her fingers through soft dark hair, she did her best to offer a distraction only to find herself falling prey to moist, cherry-red lips and their familiar taste. Before long, she felt hands on her shoulders, pushing slightly, signaling her to stop.

"Always trying to eat your dessert before your vegetables," Regina laughed, her breath hitching slightly. She attempted to put on her best 'Listen or else' facial expression even though her own resolve was fading quickly.

"Ok, fine. Give me two minutes," Emma yielded, extricating herself from Regina's embrace. Emma watched as curved hips sashayed out of the kitchen before turning her attention to the dishes. She moved the few remaining dishes from the sink to the dishwasher, quickly rinsing the ones she thought needed it. Humming to herself, she looked under the sink for the dishwashing soap. After a minute of searching, she discovered the container was completely empty. With her luck, Regina had probably done this on purpose, giving her a task she couldn't possibly fulfill—god forbid, that woman ever make anything easy.

As if on cue, she heard Regina calling her from the bedroom, wanting to know what was taking so long. Growling in response, Emma started to stand up and shut the cupboard when she got an idea—hand soap. There was hand soap right next to the sink, and soap was soap after all. Grinning to herself, she squeezed some hand soap into the soap compartment of the dishwasher. She then closed both the compartment and the dishwasher door before finally clicking the start button. She put the container of hand soap down and shouted up the stairs, "I'm on my way."

Emma bounced up the stairs. She was going to have to thank Henry for giving the couple some much needed time alone, even if he did need to get better at getting permission first and not running off on a whim to save some fairytale character or other. She opened the bedroom door to find her wife already there waiting for her. They were going to have one long, memorable night.

X X X

Emma woke the following morning to the sun glaring through the window, feeling like she had run a marathon. Her legs hurt in places she didn't know she had muscles, and her insides—well that was more of a pleasant soreness. She reached over to find she was alone in bed, which didn't really surprise her, seeing as how Regina was always up at the crack of dawn. She closed her eyes, thinking more sleep would make the leg pain go away, only to be jolted upright when she heard a splitting scream come from downstairs.

"EMMA!" Regina wailed. "Get down here right now!"

Curious and a little worried, Emma jumped out of bed and grabbed an oversized nightshirt before yelling back, "Be right there."

"What did you do?" Regina was at a loss for words. One task—she'd given Emma one household task, and that was apparently beyond her capabilities. How had Emma ever survived 28 years on her own before coming to Storybrooke?

Emma's face paled as she entered the kitchen. The entirety of the kitchen floor was flooded with watery soap suds. Surely this wasn't really happening to her? She looked at her wife, standing in the middle of the wet floor surrounded by bubbles with her face redder than she had seen it in a very long time. Of course, this was happening to her. She had the worst luck in the entire world, "Did the dishes at least get clean?"

"Did the dishes get clean? Our kitchen is flooded, and all you can say is, did the dishes get clean?" Steam was coming out of Regina's ears. This was going to take hours to clean up, and she didn't have hours. They still had to find Henry.

Emma tried a new tactic, "I'm sorry. We were out of dishsoap, and I thought…"

"You thought?" Regina prompted.

"You know, you're really hot when you're angry," Emma flirted, her eyes darkening. No one had the right to be so attractive all the time.

"How else do you expect me to react when you flooded our kitchen?"

Emma grinned, "I kind of like seeing you wet."

"If this is your way of asking to continue last night's activities, my answer is…" Regina paused in her tirade as she felt warm lips against her collarbone. For some reason, she couldn't remember why she was so upset. She turned and put her arms around Emma's neck, "You are incorrigible."

"Meaning?"

"If you're trying to get me wet, I can think of a better way than flooding the kitchen—one that requires a lot less cleanup," Regina sighed, pulling Emma into a kiss. "It's a good thing I love you for more than your intellect."

Emma scooped up some soap suds and placed them on Regina's nose, "Says the woman who got her education from a curse."

"You did not just go there," Regina said indignantly, throwing soap suds in Emma's hair in retribution. The other woman of course responded in kind. Soapy water was suddenly flying everywhere until the two women had both fallen to the floor in a fit of giggles.

"You'll help me clean this up, right?" Emma asked with a slight pout.

Regina answered, her eyes twinkling, "It's not like I can trust you to do it all by yourself."

"At least I make your life interesting," Emma winked, kissing her wife before getting up and retrieving the mop. Somehow the chore was much more enticing now that it was going to be shared.


End file.
